


Song from Death

by ZynoZello



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Might diverge from canon might not, Original Character Death(s), Reader-Insert, Swearing, im not good at tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 09:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10568727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZynoZello/pseuds/ZynoZello
Summary: You are a hunter, travelling with your girlfriend, Christina Valentines. You meet the boys on a case where people are killing their fans. They end up being the only people you can rely on when Chrissy disappears.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of bad but it's okay.

When you had first encountered the Supernatural, you passed out, literally.  If not for your girlfriend, you would have been dead, or, well, a vampire and she would have to kill you, not that she would have hesitated at the time as you were just another girl to her. 

 

After waking up and finding your whole family slaughtered, you had nothing. Jack shit. You were screaming at the heavens, blaming God for taking everyone away. That’s when Chrissy came back, you don’t exactly remember how you convinced the lone wolf to take you in and ever since, you’ve walked hand in hand into danger.

 

Now, that may make you two sound like badasses, but currently, you were in nothing but underwear and a bra eating rice while watching reruns on the television while Chrissy was still out from the tremendous amount of drinking she had done. Luckily, you had been prepared and there was currently water and pills stationed on her nightstand.

 

Currently, you were  _ supposed  _ to be working on a case. Townsfolk were getting killed by things owned by dead celebrities. With Chrissy playing dead in the bed, you were on your own. It would considerably dangerous if you went out on your own, not that that has ever stopped you. Your gaze travelled to the badges with the accompanying suits laying on the table.

 

You got up and quietly collected your gear before getting dressed. You grabbed Chrissy’s keys before heading out, squinting as the sun cast harsh rays down onto your face. You shielded your eyes as you walked to the old truck Chrissy insisted on keeping and got in before starting it up.

 

You headed straight to the station. As soon as it came into view, you parked and got out, speed walking towards the entrance. Of course, you had to crash into someone, losing the grip on your badge.

 

Whoever you crashed into quickly apologized before helping you up. You looked up and immediately was taken back, as a devilishly handsome face stared back at you. You cleared your throat before speaking, “I apologize, I was in a hurry to get to the station.”

 

“For what reason?” He asked and when I hesitated he flashed a badge. A fake. This caused me to grin before laughing.

 

“Another hunter?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

He seemed a bit flustered at your quick analysis before clearing his throat and putting away his badge, “yeah, Sam Winchester,” he said.

 

“(Y/N) (L/N), and I have a partner, but uh,” you gave a little laugh, “she’s currently passed out.”

 

He chuckled, “well, my brother is in the exact same situation,” he replied, “would you like to work together? Two’s better than one.”

 

“I would be honoured,” you said, giving an over dramatic bow, causing him to let out a chuckle.

 

You began to follow him into the police station before realizing your badge was still sitting on the sidewalk, roasting in the sun. You ran back and picked it up, nearly falling in the process before running back to a grinning Sam.

 

“Don’t say anything,” you said, giving him a suspicious look before brushing past him.

 

He held his hands up in defense, saying, “not even thinking of it.”

 

You were soon greeted by the sheriff, both of you pulling out your badges in unison, “Agent Copeland and this is my partner,” Sam said, letting you finish as you hadn’t given him your ‘cop name’ yet.

 

“Agent Harding,” you said, causing Sam to give you an odd look and you cleared your throat before the sheriff could get suspicious.

 

“Rick Carnegie,” he said, shaking Sam’s hand with what looked like  death grip, “good to know you.” He greeted us with the friendly demeanour before moving on, “so, you’re here on account of Cal Hopkins’ death?”

 

“That’s right,” Sam said with a slight nod.

 

The sheriff sighed, “well, afraid you came a long way for nothing,” he replied, “we already booked the guy that did it.”

 

“Oh?” You said, raising an eyebrow, “and who did you arrest, exactly?”

 

He brought you into his office before showing us a video. The video showed the crime scene, and whoever was recording, had a happy voice before dropping into a shell-shocked tone when the gruesome scene came into sight.

 

You coughed and covered your mouth, “excuse me,” you said, quickly walking out. You leant against the wall, waiting for Sam to get back.

 

Sam exited and motioned for you to follow. You followed him as you went deeper into the station, “he thinks it’s the best friend, we should probably talk to him.”

 

“Right,” you said with a nod.

 

-

 

We managed to convince the sheriff to let us take a look at the car. “Right, so James Dean died in this car, if it’s the real one, and the only way to know if it’s the real one…” you said, looking to Sam.

 

“Engine number,” he said with a sigh.

 

“Alright, get me some tools, paper, and a pencil and I’ll get that number,” you said.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do it?” He asked.

 

You looked at him and grinned, “I got it.”

 

With the engine number down on paper, you handed it to Sam before letting out a large sigh of relief, “can you track down who owned it last?”

 

“It’ll take some time, but yeah,” he replied, examining the number.

 

“I’ll give you my number so when you find it, you can fill me in,” you said, grabbing another piece of paper.

 

-

 

Walking into the motel, you were greeted by a gun to the face then a sigh of relief. Behind the gun, stood your girlfriend, dressed in her normal hunting gear.

 

She hit you before bringing you into a tight hug, “you scared the shit out of me,” she said before letting go, “have any leads.”

 

You quickly filled her in, her nodding along, thinking about what you were saying.

 

“Right so, we just wait around?” She asked and you shrugged in reply. She groaned and began moaning about how she got up for nothing, and you just laughed at her childish behaviour.

 

-

 

You stood at the crime scene with Sam, knowing that suddenly bringing two more agents into the play would raise suspicions.

 

Entering the room, everyone looked on edge, though mostly the sheriff. You gave him a brief smile, “heard you got another weird one.”

 

He shuffled past you, “well, it’s a -- it’s a little strange on the surface, I admit, but, you know, once you look at the facts,” he turned back to face you.

 

“William Hill died from a gunshot wound to the head,” Sam said, “no gun, no gunpowder, no bullet.”

 

“Any explanation for a phenomenon like that?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“There’s gotta be a reasonable explanation,“ he stated.

 

“And what would that be, Mr. Carnegie?” You replied.

 

“Professional killer,” he said, causing me to let out a sigh.

 

You quickly interrupted before he could go off, “was there any witnesses?”

 

He looked a bit peeved at you for cutting him off, but answered, “the maid, but she isn’t making any sense. Not even in Spanish.”

 

You gave Sam a look before heading out to meet the maid.

 

-

 

You leant against the table while Sam, Dean, and Chrissy discussed the possibilities.

 

“So, famous dead people,” Dean began.

 

“And fake famous cars, apparently,” Chrissy added, pursing her lips with a look that said ‘what in the fuck is going on?’

 

“Actually, it wasn’t the car, there was a reflection of James Dean in the video,” he replied.

 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “yup,” you replied with a sigh.

 

“Maybe I’ll meet Angelina Jolie,” Chrissy said with a dreamy face causing you to give her a ‘can you not’ look.

 

“She’s alive,” Sam said, coming out from his state of serious researching.

 

“Got anything?” You asked.

 

“Yeah,” he said, looking up from his computer, “these ghosts are ganking their fans.”

 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

 

“Apparently, Professor Hill was a civil war nut,” Sam replied, looking back down to his computer, “was digging Abraham Linkin.”

 

“And Hopkins obviously was a fan of James Dean,” you pointed out.

 

“So, you’re saying we got two super-famous, super-pissed-off ghosts killing their super fans?” Chrissy asked, furrowing her brows.

 

“Pretty much,” Sam said, “at least, it looks that way.”

 

“What are they doing here?” Chrissy said, “ghosts  _ normally  _ haunt the places they lived.”

 

“What the hell are they doing in Canton?” Dean asked and everyone just sort of looked at each other.

 

The next few hours were spent by Chrissy and Dean bonding over old things like the impala while you and Sam got to researching. 

 

Just as your eyes began to feel heavy and a headache was making its way through Sam spoke up, “you got to be kidding me.”

 

You raised an eyebrow, “what is it?”

 

-

 

You frowned deeply as you made your way through the museum, Chrissy teasing you about your fear of the wax figures, which ended with you hitting her.

 

You let Dean and Sam handle the museum guide while Chrissy dragged you around, spewing out information on you. That’s one thing you loved about her. She was passionate about history and always thought it was extremely important. You knew she wished for a normal life sometimes, but you both knew it wasn’t possible, at least for her. She had made enemies, enemies that would track her down to the ends of the earth to kill her.

 

You were startled by Sam’s voice, nearly jumping out your skin, “they have actual possessions of the celebrities,” he said.

 

“So, we torch ‘em?” Chrissy asked, completely unaffected.

 

“Exactly,” Dean replied.

 

-

 

“Sneaking in was way too easy,” you said, grabbing the objects and throwing them in the bin.

 

“I don’t think they have the money for security,” Dean said before walking off to get more objects, Chrissy following suit.

 

You walked over to the edge of the room while Sam guarded the bin. The door slamming shut startled you, causing you to turn around. Sam jogged over to the door and attempted to open it. You let out a shaky breathe and were greeted by white.

 

“Sam…” you said, pulling out your shotgun as he did.

 

You both walked forward, looking around when both guns flew across the room and you muttered a quiet ‘shit.’

 

That’s when Gandhi jumped on Sam’s back, causing him to let out a gasp and for you to fall back in shock.

 

You quickly recovered while Sam fought off pissed Gandhi and hurried to the Gandhi statue. You cautiously grabbed the glasses, and by that, you darted your hands forward because no way were you touching that freaky thing before racing the bin and tossing them in. You pulled out your lighter, hands shaking, and lit the bin up. As soon as you did, Gandhi vanished and Dean and Chrissy burst through the door.

 

Chrissy raced over to you and threw her arms around you before checking for injuries. Finding none, she brought you into another hug, frantically going on, “I’m sorry baby, I shouldn’t have left you.”

 

You smiled at her worry and pried her off, “Sam got the worst of it, he was attacked by freaking Gandhi,” you said with a laugh.

 

“Shut up,” he said as he got up.

 

“You were taken down by Gandhi?” Dean asked with an amused look causing Sam to send him a glare.

 

-

 

You were helping Chrissy pack, the way Gandhi vanished heavy on your mind. Chrissy noticed your troubled demeanour right away and took your hand, “what’s wrong, love?” She asked.

 

You looked at her and pursed your lips, “the Gandhi vanished wasn’t like a normal ghost,” you said, “he didn’t flame up or scream or anything. Just, poof.”

 

Chrissy thought for a moment, considering what you said, “perhaps,” she said, “I can look into before we go.”

 

You smiled, “that’d be great.”

 

-

 

You looked to Sam before you entered the station and grabbed his arm, “you haven’t gone into detail about the whole thing yet,” you said.

 

“Someone else got killed and now we know we’re dealing with something else,” Sam said before walking past you, into the station.

 

You let out a sigh, watching him walk out of sight. You could tell he was tense, and definitely not from this situation. You wanted to pry, but you decided against it, knowing it may just upset him more. Before your thoughts could venture off anymore, you entered the station.

 

You quickly found Sam waiting for you and headed for the sheriff who then directed you to a room with two girls.

 

Sam went straight into questioning, “so, what exactly happened?”

 

“We thought she’d be nice,” the one girl said, tears rolling down her face.

 

“She took Danielle,” the other said, choking out a sob.

 

“Who?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

The two girls looked at each other, as if scared to tell us.

 

“It’s okay, you can tell us,” Sam reassured them.

 

“It was…” the girl hesitated at first, “Paris Hilton.”

 

You coughed, nearly choking from shock, “Paris Hilton?”

 

The one girl nodded while the other began crying hysterically again. Sam led you out the room before speaking up, “Paris Hilton isn’t dead.”

 

“Yeah,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose, “definitely not a ghost.”

 

“Time for more research,” Sam said with a heavy sigh.

 

-

 

With you, Sam, Chrissy, and Dean all in the room again, it was surprisingly quiet before Sam yelled out, “yahtzee!”

 

“What?” Chrissy asked, gratefully putting down her computer.

 

“The seeds are from a forest that  _ was  _ in the eastern Europe, and legend has it that the seeds were guarded by a pagan god whose name was Leshii,” he said, “a mischievous god who could take on infinite forms.”

 

“And he liked to munch on his fans,” Dean piped in.

 

Sam let out a dry chuckle, “yep. He would drain them then stuff their stomachs with the seeds.”

 

“How do we kill it?” You asked, setting your computer aside.

 

“It says here to chop off his head with an iron axe,” he replied.

 

“Alright, let’s go gank ourselves a Paris Hilton,” Dean said.

 

-

 

You all entered the closed off exhibit, quietly spotting a girl tied to a tree. Sam ran over and checked her pulse, “she’s barely alive.”

 

Dean’s axe flew out of his hand and into the tree which followed by Paris Hilton knocking out Dean, then Sam, then Chrissy and all that was left, was you.

 

You looked from her to the axe before bolting for it. You didn’t get far when something hard hit the back of your head and blackness enveloped you.

 

-

 

When you awoke, you were greeted by the interior of the truck. At first, your vision was tad bit blurry but after rubbing your eyes and blinking. You looked for Chrissy and soon spotted her exchanging some words with Dean and Sam.

 

She waved with a giant smile before running to the truck. She hopped in and winked at you. “Looks like we got some allies, my little aster,” she said.

 

You laughed quietly at the nickname and hit her. “I’m hardly a flower, my orchid,” you replied.

 

She snorted in reply and started up the truck, saying, “I already found another case.”

  
“Good, hopefully, I won’t get knocked the fuck out, again,” you said, laughing.


End file.
